His Mistake
by DarkRiverTempest
Summary: It's one year since the war ended, and the Weasley's are rebuilding their lives, along with their house. When Charlie spies a lonely Hermione, he takes it upon himself to show her the freedom that comes from leaving your inhibitions behind, but at a cost.


Written for the LJ Community, Luvlikerocketz Halloween, specifically for Kalina_blue. Prompt:One-shot: Post-DH, EWE, inspired by Simple Plan - Untitled. Moral of the story? Don't drink and fly. ;) DISCLAIMER: JK Rowling owns the universe! Well, the HP one anyway.

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He should've known better, honestly.

Even after eating what was left of George's _Pumpkin Drops_, filled with a potent liqueur that would disable a full-grown dragon, he still should've known better. Then, as if that hadn't been bad enough, he'd dragged poor Hermione along with him, determined to show her a good time. It was one thing to damage one's self, but another to harm someone else in the process, especially an innocent like her.

Charlie Weasley was a scatter-brained arse, no doubt in his mind.

Glancing at her still form on the hospital bed, he quickly closed his eyes against the pain of guilt crashing down upon him, trying desperately to hold the tears of self-recrimination at bay. He supposed he could lay the blame at George's feet for giving him the drops, but he'd be fooling himself, and Charlie could never lie to his heart, no matter how much he wished differently.

~*~

It had been a wonderful Halloween night to begin with, the autumn leaves swirling around the newly built Burrow, and the bonfire crackling as more firewood was thrown onto the heap, sending sparks high into the crisp night air. The Weasley clan was celebrating, though the mood was a bit subdued because Fred's antics were missing, and George just didn't have it in him to emulate his twin.

He'd spied Hermione across the fire, chatting with his brother and their best friend Harry, all three laughing at something Ron had said. When Harry grabbed Ginny's hand and pulled her up to dance, Hermione looked somewhat bereft, sitting there, watching her other best friend take Lavender Brown's hand and follow suit.

_Blind git_, Charlie snorted into his cup.

He loved his family, but he was also aware of their faults, particularly those of his youngest brother. Ron was totally oblivious to things that didn't concern him directly, such as food, Quidditch, and boobs. Ron's rather public flaunting of his relationship with the Brown girl had changed Hermione Granger – that much was evident in her sad eyes –and Charlie felt something lurch in the vicinity of his chest.

Tossing out the rest of his Firewhisky, he moved to approach her, only to be stopped by George.

"Care for a _Pumpkin Drop_, dear brother?" he asked smoothly, holding up a tray of orange-coloured blobs coated in sugar.

Charlie eyed the candy speculatively. "What's in them?"

"Solvinum," George replied in a hushed tone, darting his eyes around to see if anyone was listening.

"Are you insane?" Charlie rasped. "One dram of that stuff will keep a dragon pissed for an entire evening, not to mention its illegal here in England!" He looked around just as his brother had done. "Where did you get it?" he whispered.

A shadow passed over George's eyes. "Fred bartered for it about a month before…" He trailed off, staring at the sweets on the platter.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, Charlie gave a squeeze in shared sympathy. "I can't begin to understand your bond," he commiserated. "But I miss him, too."

George gave him a small smile. "Thanks, mate." He held up the tray once more. "There's barely a drop in each one and I need to gauge how much to feed our dear dunderhead of a brother, so eat up!"

Sighing in exasperation, Charlie popped one in his mouth, his eyes widening. "These are fantastic!"

Grinning from ear to missing ear, George patted himself on the back. "Knew they'd be brilliant."

Charlie grabbed three more, moaning in delight as he tossed each one into his mouth. "Bloody hell, these are addictive."

"Ease up, Charles," his brother drawled, removing the tray from within his reach. "You won't be able to stand if you eat another."

But Charlie felt nothing at the moment, only the pleasurable taste of the liqueur suffusing his senses, lowering his inhibitions. Normally, he was the reserved sort – though not shy – preferring to observe others and wonder what made them tick. Now, he felt like flying; soaring above everything and experiencing the freedom the wind blowing in his face provided.

Spying Hermione still alone in front of the fire, he grinned mischievously and _Accio'd_ his old Firebolt from the shed behind the house, striding towards her.

Stepping behind her huddled form, he bent low and murmured in her ear, "Fly with me?"

"Charlie!" she yelped in surprise, startled by his presence, her hand fluttering near her throat. "You're too stealthy for your own good," she teased with a shy smile.

Standing, he held out his hand. "Fly with me," he repeated, his bright blue eyes entreating her.

"Me? But I'm afraid of heights," she stammered. "And it's freezing!"

"I'll keep you warm," he husked, taking her hand anyways and pulling her up to meet him. "You'll be safe with me, I promise."

Pressing her palms to his muscular chest, she stared into his eyes and found something that made her insides tingle in the most delicious way. "A-alright," she stuttered, much like her heart did at the moment.

With a loony smile, he straddled the broom and helped her sit side-saddle in front of him, bringing his arms around her to grip the shaft and steer. That brought him in direct contact with the smooth skin of her neck. Nuzzling just under her hairline, he breathed in deeply the scents that clung to her; that of cinnamon, wood smoke, and something uniquely Hermione.

"Hold on," he told her softly. He delighted in her response when she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her head against his shoulder.

Kicking off from the ground, Charlie lifted them both above the tree line, ignoring the shouts from his family – George in particular – and focused instead on the woman in front of him. As they climbed higher, the air became cooler, causing Hermione to draw closer to him – much to his pleasure.

"Take a look, poppet," he encouraged, rubbing his nose against her cheek.

Slowly, she turned her face towards the wind, and gasped in amazement at the passing scenery. "Charlie," she breathed. "It's magnificent!"

Climbing a bit higher, he came to a stationary position, so she could observe the surroundings without the chill of the evening assaulting her delicate skin. "Not so bad, is it?"

She turned to gaze at him. "I never thought otherwise." Biting her bottom lip, she tilted her head to study him. "No one's offered to show me how wonderful flying could be, though, so I just never contemplated it."

Leaning closer until their lips were a hairsbreadth apart, Charlie murmured, "I'm offering."

"I'm accepting," she whispered and closed the distance to his supple mouth.

He threaded his fingers through her riotous curls and tugged her nearer so he could slant his lips over hers, deepening the kiss, groaning at the explosion of taste her depths afforded him. That also triggered a more violent reaction from the Solvinum he'd imbibed earlier, causing him to tighten his grip in her hair, lest she withdraw.

"Charlie," Hermione said in a muffled voice, trying to break free from his grasp. "You're hurting me."

Opening his eyes, he saw only blurred images and began growing increasingly disoriented when he released Hermione, only to waver to the side… in midair.

"Charlie!" she shouted as he swayed too far to the right, upsetting the balance of the broom.

It was sheer luck she was able to grab him before he fell completely off the shaft, but the momentum of pushing him up caused her to overcompensate, and she found herself falling over the left side, unable to grab hold of anything.

Her screams of panic slowly registered with Charlie while he dazedly watched her plummet towards the trees, and he dove to follow her shadowy form as, in her descent, she broke tree limbs with her back. Bright flashes of light and bizarre colours obscured his vision as he pulled up near her falling body, praying he reached her in time.

Twenty feet from the ground, he caught her – wrenching his wrists in the process – but he didn't notice their odd angle since most of his body was numb from the affects of the Solvinum. Grateful to have her in his embrace, he tried to lower them to the ground, but his impaired mental faculties made him lose consciousness, causing the both of them to make a staggering lurch into a ditch.

The next thing he became aware of was a white light being shone into his eyes and several voices, some raised in anger, others in shock or dismay assaulting his ears. Wincing in pain, he tried to avoid the light, but a firm hand pressed to his forehead kept him from turning his head.

"You're bloody lucky," he heard someone mutter. "You both are."

_What happened to me?_ His thoughts were muzzy and thick like his mother's wool socks. _I can't remember!_

~*~

Picking up Hermione's hand, Charlie caressed her knuckles with his thumb, tears slipping down his cheeks, as he looked at her bruised and battered body. _How could I do this? To her?_

There had been no shortage of people talking to him about what had happened that night one week ago – no lapse in the berating of his family and Hermione's friends at how utterly irresponsible he'd been to get on a broom after he'd overindulged. The disgusted looks he received from Harry were the worst, making him wonder in the back of his mind if the young man would actually hex him with an _Unforgivable_. If he were Potter, he would certainly consider it.

But there was nothing for it, really. He'd made his mistakes and had nowhere to run, not that he would. The splints on his wrists were removed the day before, and while his joints were still sore, he could move them without much difficulty. His only worry now was for the woman lying so quiet in the bed next to him.

"I can't erase what I've done, poppet," he sobbed quietly, bringing her fingers to his lips, keeping them pressed to his mouth in agony. "I can't stand that I've caused you this pain."

So immersed in his misery, his head bowed over her hand, Charlie didn't notice the faint flutter of Hermione's eyelashes. "Charlie?" she whispered.

His head shot up, tears swimming in his eyes as he watched her grimace in pain. "Hermione?"

Smiling softly, she removed her hand from his grasp and asked that he help her sit up. Moving quickly, he gently placed his hands under her arms and lifted her upper body until she was leaning against the headboard, then fluffed her pillows before backing away.

Tense silence radiated between them, as they were both unsure of what to say. Knowing he was in the wrong, Charlie cleared his throat and ran his fingers through his unruly locks in nervousness.

"I-I'm sorry," he said hesitantly. He held up his hand to keep her from saying anything. "I know it's a pithy excuse, but I had no idea that the Solvinum was so fast-acting when I ate those sweets. At first, I just felt euphoric and free," he explained. "Then I saw you and I wanted you to experience it with me." Wiping his eyes with the back of his wrist, he shuddered. "I never wanted this to happen and I can't apologize enough for the hurt I've caused you."

"Charlie," she sighed, laying a hand on his mop of red hair. "I forgive you. Truly."

"How can you say that?" he whispered harshly, not understanding her apparent flippancy. "I nearly killed you!"

"But you didn't," she countered, cupping his cheek. "You promised to keep me safe, remember?"

He stared at her. "You actually think I had the capacity to keep you safe in my condition?"

Tugging on his shirt, she didn't stop until he was sitting on the bed close to her. "Charles Septimus Weasley," she scolded lightly. "You are a man of your word, regardless of what condition you're in, and I won't have you doubting yourself." She idly plucked at a few stray threads on his jumper. "It could've been a lot worse, you know."

"How?" he asked, narrowing his eyes, but he knew to what she was referring. They could both be dead. He arched a red brow. "And how did you know my middle name?"

She hid her grin by biting her lip. "I heard your mother yell at you once."

"Cheeky monkey," he teased somberly.

They remained silent for several moments, but it wasn't strained as before, both taking comfort in their closeness and the fact they were alive. Leaning forward, Charlie pressed a kiss to her brow, and then placed his own forehead against hers, mindful of her bruises.

"I want to start over again," he stated with conviction. "To prove I'm worth the faith you have in me, misguided as it may be."

"That's me, Hermione Granger, patron saint of wayward devotion," she mocked. "Just promise you'll never eat anything George makes and we have a deal."

"If he survives the thrashing I'm going to give him," he threatened. "I solemnly swear to keep you safe at all times, even from myself," he promised, placing her hand over his heart. "Deal?"

Shifting gingerly, she kissed him lightly. "Deal."


End file.
